ROMAN // BARLOWE

La petite mort


Mortician & Pathologist

Head Apothecary for Apocrypha Auctions & Acquisitions

There's a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly


←Name→ Roman Barlowe
←Age→ ???
←Species // Veena
←Gender→ Agender ♂ [He/Him]
←Height→ 4'10"
←Hair→ Chestnut Brown
←Eyes→ Left: Amber + Right: Milk-white, Blind
←Build→ Curvy
←Profession→ Mortician ● Pathologist ● Alchemist ● Necromancer


information or something

Information or something

Wading through the spirits like a flood on the floor


Alexois de Jervaint

[[ The gentleness that comes,
not from the absence of violence, but despite
the abundance of it. ]]

capital

Gabriella Vuivaire

[[ None of it is real, darling. I say it to you. Maybe we will wake up
singing. Maybe we will wake up to the silence
Of shoes at the foot of the bed not going anywhere. ]]

waifu

Camille Everardi

[[ You raised your hand to your face as if
to hide it, the pink fingers gone gold as the light
streamed straight to the bone,
as if you were the small room closed in glass ]]

Curious, confusing and inspiring. Her questioning nature has most certainly rubbed off on him, and he respects and appreciates her for her worldliness, understanding and shared interests, despite their disparity in age difference and demeanor.

Enkhjargal Dalamiq

[[ Kill your Gods, devour your oppressors. ]]

Stoic. Storied. Dangerous. Enkhjargal is a man that harbors much of Roman's respect and admiration. Filling the role of both teacher and pupil interchangably, Enkhjargal mentored him loosely in voidal summoning, and in turn, Roman had taught him to fence.

Hadrian Lux Ludens

[[ How much can you change
and get away with it, before you turn into someone
else, before it’s some kind of murder? ]]

Intense, opinionated, and downright bizarre. Roman appreciates his strangeness, honesty, and fighting prowess, and many of their views and interests overlap. His odd nature easily opened Roman up further to the idea of friendship, despite their mutual insanity, and his presence often takes the sour edge off of the Viera's usual disposition.

Ololquo Olquo

[[ A stone on the path means the tea’s not ready,
a stone in the hand means somebody’s angry, the stone inside you still
hasn’t hit bottom. ]]

where am i

There was a danger that seeped from my skull


Little voices left to rot and plot


aaaaa
aaaaa
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Dear lie still along my old web


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